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Author: Heather (she/her/hers)

I am a spiritual director seeking joy in the mundane and writing to inspire others to do the same.

Miraculous, Messy Mortality

February 23, 2023 Heather (she/her/hers)

When I walk outdoors in the dead of winter and turn to be among the trees, the smell is heady and heavy. It is unique to the old growth of pine, fir and cedar, and the spongy moss that covers everything. It is unique to the ferns this time of year as well- darker in… Continue reading Miraculous, Messy Mortality

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Post-Advent

January 30, 2023 Heather (she/her/hers)

Oh, the post-Christmas doldrums. I used to think they weren't avoidable. I would spend the weeks after New Years busying myself so I didn't have to feel my sadness. And while I love the New Year with its shiny possibilities and opportunity for a new start, the high of a fresh January would only last… Continue reading Post-Advent

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Advent: Meaning in the Darkness

December 4, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

There will come a day this winter when looking outside at 4:30pm to darkness will cause me to feel stir crazy. But that day is not tonight, and this evening’s deep purple sky is feeding my weary bones, wrapping fleece around them and stirring up a contented sigh. I long for this dark part of… Continue reading Advent: Meaning in the Darkness

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Advent Day 3: Influenza

November 29, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

My daughter and I spent the day waffling in and out of fever and lounging on the couch while we watched guilty pleasure shows tv. It is interesting, having a child old enough to do this with. Like being sick with a friend and not a child. The day rolled along slowly. My son was… Continue reading Advent Day 3: Influenza

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Advent Day 2: Bless Our Memories

November 28, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

Preschool is back in session after a week off. I have two classes that each have one morning to themselves, so on Mondays, I have a tiny class of mostly 3-year-olds. We spend the first two hours of the day outdoors unless it is absolutely grotesque, and this morning happened to be pretty ideal for… Continue reading Advent Day 2: Bless Our Memories

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The First Sunday of Advent

November 27, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

It is the first Sunday of Advent, and I am sitting in the backseat of our truck, my 7-year-olds head on my shoulder and my husband at the wheel. We drive through the back country roads that we travel daily, but my eyes are allowed to take in more this morning, as I am not… Continue reading The First Sunday of Advent

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Opening Your Story

November 26, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

I have an exciting offering to share! I am teaching a series of three classes through The Companioning Center starting at the end of January. The series will build upon each class, starting with the examination of the hidden self through inner child work, the enneagram, artistic expression, and play in a class titled Opening… Continue reading Opening Your Story

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Advent Astonishments

November 26, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

Tomorrow is the first day of Advent, and my body aches with some sneaky, persistent virus that has finally caught up to me. Perhaps those two facts are related, and perhaps they’re not related at all. But let’s say they are, because it fits my narrative. You see, being a mom and a teacher during… Continue reading Advent Astonishments

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Invitations

July 6, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

I’m looking at the almost thirty-year-old gazebo that stands in our backyard, and once again contemplating its fate. It’s sturdy, albeit with a small roof leak that drips when it’s pouring rain. It’s in desperate need of a fresh coat of white paint, and that I can give it. But it leans slightly to one… Continue reading Invitations

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A Poem of Grief

June 1, 2022 Heather (she/her/hers)

For mothers sending children into the world A mother’s milk doesn’t trickle in in the hours after her newborn slips or tears out of her body. Her breasts don’t fill slowly to meet the need. Her infant’s suckle does not call forth A gentle swelling. No. The filling is sudden, an explosion of heat and… Continue reading A Poem of Grief

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I can’t believe I went 39 years without seeing this in person. Bucket list item- check! Such an incredible day 🧡
Such a good first day in Phoenix for Spring Break! @foxyface915 and @tumsticks thank you for meeting us!
This morning in the forest, I found a spot of mulched oak leaves to sit on while meditating on that moment’s forest bathing prompt. I looked up, ready to let the old pines speak as they have been so clearly during my time here, and I was met with the eye of a blue whale peering softly at me through a knot in a fallen log. The second image is a photo I snapped while revisiting this afternoon, and the poem that follows is what exploded out of my chest. 💚
We were led through three hours of forest bathing in the rain this morning. I welled up with tears no less than four times. The soul of the forest, the spirits of the people gone before, and the holiness of the molecular wisdom that is in every single being were so alive. Follow that with a haiku seminar, and my soul and spirit are fillllled to the brim. Gratitude upon gratitude.
When I lean my back against a tree while forest bathing, I’m not just resting in a place. I am slowing my heart to the pace of the sap flowing under bark. I am naming her Pine, and greeting her with my whole soul. I am asking if she would hold me for a time, and if she might like to get to know me, too. I am honoring her wisdom and that she knows just what she needs to grow. She has seen more than I could ever imagine to see, and I thank her for holding the stories that have taken place above her roots and below her boughs. She is my sister, my elder. She reminds me to rest and to just be. She reminds me that all my life the trees have been companions, have been sacred, have been safety. And in her presence I am reminded that wherever tall pines stand, I am home.
When your fellow bibliophile who you get to finally meet in person after 3 YEARS comes to Portland for one evening, you take her to @powellsbooks of course! And then you take photos in the stacks because obviously. 😘

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